Chapter 13: Bridges [PART 2]

Idleness, often prolonged the day. The hours felt like days, and the days felt like years. Life was often such an empty routine, so devoid of any motivation or goal. At least, such was the case for Remus. He busied himself with his playing. His playing often reflected his emotions and it wasn't surprising to hear sad, melancholic and hollow notes escape his grand piano, especially at this time of the year. It was his form of plaintive lamentation. However, he had other things on his mind.

Pacing up and down the vast expense of the great mansion, he was looking every bit the nervous wreck. Fingers constantly running through his hair, muttering plans under his breath and eyes that searched the ceilings and walls for an answer. Just as he was observing the fine details of the cracks in the ceiling, a flicker of blue caught the corner of his eye. A familiar soft scent of roses accompanied his glimpse but he was simply too afraid to turn and face his answer who was dressed in a blue gown.

'Serena..I just wanted to say-'

An abrupt end to his sentence that left them hanging. Bad time to notice how beautiful she was. He never did overcome his weakness for her blonde locks and captivating eyes.

'This makes things really crazy, but I-'

Not quite the man good with words. 

'I..I..-'


He shut his eyes tightly, reached for the back of her head with his left hand and pulled her close. Taking the moment to grapple with the audacity of the act and the sudden bravery that had consumed him, he hesitated. Then, like a spark fully realizing its potential, passion burned and engulfed them in that moment. Lips, albeit locked awkwardly, spoke the unspoken and revealed the hidden. It wasn't a secret anymore. His stolen glances and discomfort around her was finally accounted for.



They were so caught in their embrace that they had failed to notice a third party in the room.

[!] Update + Blog

Hi readers!

Today (SGT) marks the start of a new chapter in my life. Polytechnic life and studies officially start in earnest :D. The seniors and fellow freshmen have been really great people and have made the adaptation to tertiary education a rather enjoyable one which I definitely look forward to.

Though school hours are rather irregular, posting of chapters and continuations in the story won't be affected. This is my promise to you all :)

Next, Im also glad to announce that the plot for my next story is complete!! *CHEERS* *WOOTS*
Writing for this will begin right after the end of Arteries and Veins. Do stay tuned aites? :D

P.S Sorry for the grammar errors and informal spelling :)

With regards,
Jethro.

Chapter 13: Bridges [Part 1]

'Romulus!' A soft delicate voice called out to him.

Stirring to his senses, he inspected his surroundings. Long extended weeds towered over him and the sky was as blue as the sea. The clouds sailed lazily and the wind blew a gentle breeze cooling the midday heat. With eyes half open, he traced the source of the soothing call to the little hut about twenty metres away. Peculiar fellow he was, never wanting to be under any shelter.

'Lunch is almost ready, will you not come back?'

'I was on my way, actually.'

'Obviously you were.'

'Was just taking a break.'

She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.

Back at the mansion, a soft melody bounced from wall to wall. It rang clearly and familiarly like a church bell. The young man played the piano with his eyes shut. His heart clearly beating in time to the music and his body swaying as if possessed by the tune itself. Disapproving eyes, however, pierced his back like knives. A greying gent stared on with a slight frown. Though clearly more talented than his brother, he never took well to the business trips and meetings. A slight yawn, and a simple 'What a bother' said with such a burdened monotony that it often ignited the rage and frustration of the gent. 'I must have let down Ethan', he often thought to himself.

Bursting through the large doors of the mansion, their hurried footsteps announced their timely arrival for lunch. Walking through the halls, Romulus simply couldn't help but appreciate the paintings that adorned the woodern walls that led to the dining room. Passing the big chandelier that lit up the stairwell above the walkway, Romulus paused and stared deeply at a certain painting. It was a rather simple painting of two medieval knights engaging in a fierce fight. Strangely, though they were the only ones locked in the contest, the fields on which they stood were heavily stained with blood. Romulus never understood why. He often wondered aloud, as to who the victor was.

At the dinner table, everyone was getting settled. Napkins folded neatly and placed on their laps, hands already washed and dried and utensils neatly arranged. They sat facing each other at the large oak table capable of hosting up to 20 guests. Just as the food was about to be served, the pianist looked in the direction of the fair lady sitting diagonally across him. His heart must have skipped a beat when her gaze met his! Fingers anxiously tapping on his thighs, and clear attempts at steadying his breathing, it was tough trying to act calm. At last the food came, and he gobbled it down absentmindedly.

'I must be insane.' He thought to himself as he nearly choked on the baked potatoes.

'I think so too.' Another generated thought sailed through the air during their silent meal.

Chapter 12: Echo [Part 3]

At this very instant, reality reigned supreme once again. It had seemed that through this great puppeteer, the almighty human mind had been played into an illusion, or rather, a surreal experience created from within. Eyes opened. Nerves settled. Muscles relaxed. The great master himself set himself at ease and turned to face the crowd that he had enthralled. A million thoughts flashed through his mind but yet his ultimate feeling must have been one of utter joy. The smiles, glowing in the dark chamber hall was simply priceless.

He stood up, and took a nervous bow, with his eyes not meeting the gaze of awe and envy from his peers. Applause all around, of course. Who would have the sheer audacity of denying such a great pianist his rewards of recognition and appreciation? As he took each step away from the grand piano, his eyes searched all around for the familiar face that very much paralleled his. The same deep blue eyes. Thick, rich and curvy golden locks. Suddenly, two outstretched arms caught him. They wrapped tightly around his waist and he felt a soft touch just above his shoulders.

'You did well.' A soft feminine voice whispered tenderly into his ears.

'Thank you.' He turned around and gently pecked her softly on her cheeks. 

A friend. A companion. A wife. All of such was she. But he lacked that final sense of belonging that had been absent within him. His chest heaved as he sighed heavily.

'Its Remus isn't it?'

Chapter 12: Echo [part 2]

The host, especially, was getting extremely agitated and perturbed by the apparent missing piece in this jigsaw of a gathering. Motioning for one of the statues, or rather waiters, he whispered into his ear and demanded, perhaps with a little to much angst where his missing guest is. At that moment, thunderous footsteps echoed throughout the hall. It was if an elephant was running through the very same compound that they had all been gathered together in.

The guests turned their heads and before them beheld a scruffy looking man hiding in a suit. Hair obviously sculpted by the wind, shoes and pants that were decorated with dots of mud, and a rather foul distinct stench of sweat and panic. Heavy panting and a slouched back at the entrance of their company certainly completed the worst first impression ever. Perhaps he was the harbinger of something greater to come? Or was he just the jester of the night.

‘I’m sorry’

A complete standstill ensued as they looked at their man. Then like a small flame being flushed out by a pail of cold water, the tenseness vaporized and the air was once again jocund and light. They laughed at his stiffness instead and patted him on his back as he made his way to the centre of the hall, all this while still trying to make himself presentable and blend comfortably with his peers.

Screech, went the chair as he thrust himself on it. Gently, he opened the lid of the wooden box. It was hollow, save a few keys that all looked the same. He stared blankly at it for a moment, seemingly expecting the keys to unlock a door in his mind.

Then it came.

Like a searing wave of the sea, the box took everyone by storm. A soldier marched out of the box, followed by another and another, until an entire troop was present. They marched pompously around the room with their steps clear and sharp. Drills and routines peppered their performances as they continued their majestic showcase in the awe of the spectators. Suddenly, it came to a halt. At the blink of an eye, it all disappeared. All that was left was a lady in a red Spanish dress. She started to dance feverishly and with a fire that ignited the souls of the audience. With every breath she took, her aims flailed wildly and her leaping and wild, exotic dancing resembled that of a gypsy circling a fire with inconsistent steps that was so determined by her own inner heartbeat that bled uniqueness.

The box surprised again.

Her dancing grew slower and slower, like a sprinters steps after the race, until it reached a standstill. The box consumed her and after a brief moment of silence, it spat out another woman. She was nothing like the elegant and pomp of the first two. Dressed in an elegant black ensemble, she knelt and buried her face. Whimpers were heard. So soft they were, that they strained hard to even hear the emotion of her expressions. They gradually grew louder and her cries became thunderous to the ear of the listener, though she maintained her discreet volume. She wept. Her tears flooded the hall and took out the lights that had previously lit up the room so brightly and gloriously.

 Though such was her gloom, the only light that descended upon the entire room chose to fall upon her. Moonlight radiated on her glowing white skin as her teardrops sizzled as they dropped to the ground. Then, before their eyes her tears became sparks. And the sparks grew to larger and untamable flames. It spread and the hall was on fire, though only she burned. Unforgettable. The twisted and demented face of horror as she finally looked up! Without warning, she charged to the nearest window and flung herself Perhaps hours. out. Eyes shut, and though with lungs burning for oxygen, their ears were in utter anticipation of the crash.  Seconds. Maybe minutes. Perhaps eternity. Time, itself, refused to confine such soul wrenching events to mere human limits. But then it came, and what a surprise it was. Just a simple cushioned drop and she lay dead.

Chapter 12: Echo [Part 1]

Splendor. What majesty. Intricate carvings and patterns adorned the freshly painted walls. What skillful art it was, for no recurring design was any different from the other.  Humongous chandeliers suspended off of the high ceilings and the many other candles already lit up simply added to the novelty and grandeur of the event. The candles gave off the scent of rosewood and the poignant aroma quickly filled the air. It brought time to another summer time of fresh fields and flowers swaying in the wind to a backdrop of a blue sky and burning sun.

‘Hurry, hurry!’

Tables were being set up, and the rattling of glasses rung steadily through the hall as they were being arranged in an orderly fashion. The harried and stressed out looks carried by the waiters far contrasted the serenity and nonchalance worn on the pretty and powdered faces of the attendees. Forming small groups along the corridors, they talked and discussed in unison. Varied pitches and pauses blended in well with their enthusiasm and eagerness to share as their chatter gradually stirred the life out of the lethargic evening sunset.

Unexpectedly, a sudden decrescendo descended upon the liveliness as the steady sound of rolling wheels resulted in a shift in their attention and gaze. Oh, it was nothing, just a mere large chunk of wood being shifted into the large ballroom. It warranted a few shaking of heads and whispers of disapproval at the sudden interruption of the liveliness. Sighs aplenty and handkerchiefs came in handy as they finally completed their work.

Soon, the guests filled the grand hall of magnificence and together with their presence; they carried with them the atmosphere of joy and laughter. However, like all fuels, their fire and energy gradually fizzled out and impatience hung heavily in the room. They were, after all, not the main event.

[!] Milestone + Blog

Hi peeps!

Today marks the day where this site has received its first thousandth view/read after it's birth dating back to last year. The journey toward this milestone has been rather rough at times, with both mind and body completely not functioning in unison. Fatigue and often other commitments have always been my excuses to delay and postpone. I assure all readers, that's going to change soon :)

I really want to thank all the persistent readers who have endured through my long posts, some even on their mobile devices. Your faith and steadfastness is truly amazing and often what spurs me on. Thank you for your support and stay tuned to the latest developments coming up soon :D (Pace quickens immensely as of the next chapter)

On a side note, I've looked into the future and have already started planning the framework for the next saga/story that would replace Arteries and Veins. All I can reveal so far is that it'll be something more fun and appealing. Hopefully I can make it something easy to relate to. Personally, Im glad to announce that the genre would be a concoction of romance and comedy. I hope to have your support for the next project too!

Thank you,
Jethro Lim
 

Chapter 11: Ghosts

It was a chilly autumn afternoon and a fine gent was walking through the vast open country sides still left unmolested by the feverish ideas of machinery and mass productions. Buttoning up his upper vest to shield himself from the strong highland winds, he trudged on through the mud covered tracks. The sky was bright red and the sun was beginning to set, and in his eyes he saw the multitudinous farmers at work in their fields, beginning to cease and return to their homes. The fields, too, gradually left him in his journey and towering bushes and trees flanked him.

He made a sudden left turn and followed down a path too narrow for two. The overlapping crowns of the trees blocked out whatever sunlight that was left and even his shadow was barely visible. He finally reached a gate and before his eyes were flowers. The colors blinded him momentarily but he managed to navigate his way without stepping disrespectfully on the floral decorations that adorned the stones.

Stumbling clumsily, however, he reached a corner of this vast maze to come face to face with a cross with two names engraved on it. He shut his eyes, and pictured them before him. Their 'meeting' was silent and only their eyes spoke volumes. He swallowed hard as their haunting eyes stared deep into his own. 'Rip me apart, and bare my soul' he thought to himself on his knees. He was frustrated at his inability to communicate in ways that he himself knew. The phantasms and images gradually faded away and he opened his eyes. He was alone again. Seemingly consumed by the moment, he broke down and tears flowed from his eyes. His silent sobs echoed deep into the lazy woods and a million thoughts were on his mind. Shadows were cast over him as the dying sun painted the clouds and prepared to go to its own period of rest. Getting up, he shuffled through the maze once more and left.

The arches of the trees impressed upon as an endless vortex, a journey to eternity. He sneered at his own wild imagination and chided himself to be hasty. Reaching into his pockets, he grabbed a fine tobacco roll and placed it between his parched lips. Producing a match box, he struck a match swiftly along the rough exterior of the box. The flame glowed minimally lighting up the dark and rather depressive path back onto the main road. Burn, and the familiar choking yet calming aroma of smoke filled his nostrils. He squints as the exhaust irritates his eyes. Puff after puff, his body filled with weary, step by step, with feet like lead, he finally makes it out back on to the main road.

He pauses for a moment and takes a deep puff. Letting the smoke reach the deepest part of his lungs, he exhales calmly and slowly. He feels a deep sense of serenity and looks back once more at the long narrow corridor that he had just exited. A million thoughts flash through his mind again. But at the last of his smoke-filled breath, he smiles and leaves the ghosts that haunt him behind. Hurrying again back on the main road, he realizes that he is late.

Chapter 10: Expulsion [PART2]

Shock. A rather uncanny timing for a Kelly to appear. 'But who is she?', the troubled twins of the Goodend line wondered. She reminded them of their mother. It was identity and not tidings that they were more interested in. For Ethan, it was an acquaintance from years ago, and he was once again reminded, but yet relieved, that his children would be in good hands in the future.

'My father sends his best wine to you.'

Her hands reach out the basket containing the fine produce and looks up at them. Eyes glowing and gleaming in full glory. Slowly, her lips curl into a smile and urges them once again to accept this gift. She reminded them of Anne. Her silhouette cast a large shadow over them as she walked through the door.

If for that moment, the gents were elated at their harbinger of joy and hope, oh how wrong they were. Everything happened as quickly as it had originally started and over that fateful night.

Unable to find any rest in the days events, Ethan was more than just a bag of nerves downstairs. Schizophrenia, as the physicians had deemed it, had struck. Tailing shadows, blood flowing out of his hands, a policeman banging at the door. The fallen man, had once again been reduced to yet another sinking level. However, this experience, unlike the others, wasn't unreal.

A heavy thump on the door as loud as thunder. A few men screaming downstairs. The twins, 'fast asleep' upstairs were, however, able to distinguish one of them as their father's. Wood cracking and pottery smashing further gave evidence that a scuffle had erupted downstairs again. However, this time the prelude to the descending silence came a little louder with a forte.

It must have been ages, for their muscles ached in tension and their bed sheets were soaking with perspiration. Then, Romulus shot up and whispered.

'Is Daddy with the other man lying in the kitchen?'

[UPDATE]

Hi people!

So hows the story going so far? Anyway, I'll be away in HK for a while and will only be back on the 29th. Hope you guys are still enjoying the extremely long break away from studies (that is, for the poly peeps who start school only in April). Will post part 2 when I get back :D

Jethro.

Chapter 10: Expulsion [PART1]

Thunder it must have been, for the sudden inclusion of noise in the room had startled everyone. Their necks craned towards the source, as if they had eyes that could see through the sheer solidity of the door standing in their way.

'Who is it?' Ethan instinctively questioned as he peered nervously back at the pool of blood that by now had flown from the kitchen to the living room, staining the fine marble flooring.

An unsatisfactory answer was given in its cruelest form.

'Who is it?' He asked again.

A creak, and then the screech of metal scraping metal as daylight entered the cold room gradually as the door opened. Shadows of neighbouring houses formed within the house and the smell of industrialisation filled their nostrils. However, it was a rather odd (and partially ridiculous) time to play host to a female guest.

Pedigree, was the first adjective that the gents could keep synonymous with her well-groomed and polished appearance. Bright red lips. Deep blue eyes. Long gold locks. Sparkling black dress of satin. It was as if Algaea herself had been personified into a mortal form. The bright colours that adorned her skin resembled a painting, a masterpiece of sheer magnificent beauty that would have even been able to give life to the dead. Suddenly, the room wasn't so dreary anymore.

'Hello.' She said simply. Her voice clearly nonchalant to the happenings that filled the room barely an hour ago.

'Hello...uh...yes..you are?'

'Im Serena. Serena Kelly.'

Chapter 9: Possession

It was loud. Piercing actually. The sheer volume of the pumping valves of that one man’s heart simply struck terror into everyone. No one spoke as their eyes failed to transmit any of their emotions to their brains to be translated into words. Cold. There was no trace of any intensity, heat or tension that had filled the room just a while ago. Fear, instead, took its place in the minds of each and every one in the room. Consequences, it seemed, was a much harsher reality than the scene that they had created for themselves.

‘Clank!’ a sudden echo from the kitchen resonated.

Silence.

A footstep. Then another. A myriad of non-sequential stomps followed as if each foot were trying to catch up with the other. A shadow was quickly forming and what a sight! Knife in hand, pendant in another, Ethan Goodend stumbled out of the kitchen. Pale. What a face of snow! Bruises adorned his knuckles and his shirt bled velvet. His blade dripped of the same shade and his eyes scanned the room like a tiger looking for its prey.

‘By God! What have you done?’ One member of the suited band asked as his body shook and trembled.

Silence.

One man brave enough for the truth, brushed aside the rest, and charged into the room pompously.

He promptly fled, screaming hysterically at the top of his voice leaving a trail of fresh footprints. Velvet it was and terror it did endorse.

No one it seemed, absolutely no one, was ready for the sight of whatever was in the kitchen. The suited band, seeing that their own peer had left, followed suit in a rather haste and abrupt fashion.

Fortunately, certain innocence spared the twins from the truth of that day and trauma of the highest level wasn’t allowed into their lives that fateful moment.

‘Sit down father.’ Romulus quickly snatched at the nearest chair.

‘At least they’re gone, but what about the man behind?’

‘He is not our concern brother!’

‘I hope he is alright..’

‘I said! He is not our concern!’

Poor Ethan. He was a mess, a bag of nerves. His hollow eyes were rather haunting and he stared into space, with his grip on both the knife and pendant still firm.

‘It’s over boys.’ He suddenly said with disarming confidence.

They looked up at him. What a fatherly figure they thought in their own pubescent way. It was an image that they were to capture for the rest of their lives, an act of selfish goodwill that yet embodied protection and shelter at all costs. He looked at them too with a rather grim knowledge that it’d be the very last act of protection in his known life for them. Ethan teared and closed his eyes half knowing the fate that awaited him. Every muscle tightened, every vein surfaced and he hugged them tightly. He remembered Anne and grief consumed him.

One man dead, One family consequentially torn apart. One exposure to the most extreme action mankind can inflict on another. Fate, however, had dictated to remain consistently cruel. It was adamant on tearing up whatever was left of the Goodends. Like a vulture, it laid in wait to devour the family carcass.

Knock! A pounding at the door had brought their moving embrace to an abrupt standstill.

Chapter 8: Thunder

Breathes were held and the entire brawl was brought to an abrupt standstill. The silence was deafening as the sudden sight of Ethan Goodend calmly taking each step took them by surprise. His appearance had brought an eerie calm to the storm already brewing, with the clergymen taking a step back away from his bruised and battered son. Then, in a sign of solidarity, he picked Remus up and dusted his shoulders. Tears welled up in his eyes as he felt the fatherly love that he had been robbed of for many years finally bestowed on him once again.

'What's this whole thing about?' he whispered to Remus.

'It's...it's..the pendant.'

Ethan's eyes and expression reflected his shock. The sheer audacity, he thought, to rob a man of his last memory of a woman he had loved all his life. Of course, his thought processes weren't as straightforward as that. Fury was welling up within him and any belief that this man would choose a more diplomatic approach to easing the tension evaporated at that instant. That instant that the light of gold and jewels struck his twisted face. That sheer radiance that sparkled spoke wonders to him. It transported him back years in time to a single moment.

'Do you remember what you said when they were born?' a soft, gentle, but more importantly, feminene voice spoke inside him.

'Yes. Every word. My emotion has never affected my promise.'

'They're hurt Ethan. Torture does not simply manifest in its physical form.'

His eyes close and his lips mutter in inaudible whispers all this while nonplussed to the stench of utter discomfort and fear released by his audience of boys and men. For a second, for a minute they wait. Sweat fills their eyes and they begin to feel the itch and irritation of their awkwardness and inability to counter the rather unprecedented situation they are in.

Suddenly, his eyes open and he looks back at the pendant. He sees a simple metal structure simply protecting a picture.

'Can I, please, have that back?' A rather sincere and meek voice appeals softly.

Silence.

'I would like that back' This time a little bit firmer with a tinge of anger.

Silence.

In that second, the same man that had been pinned down a while ago, was wrestled to the ground once more. The two men fought like ravenous wolves and each man took and gave an equal amount of pain. Smashing plates and cutlery, they announced their arrival into the kitchen. Heartbeats thumped so rapidly and loudly that one could not be faulted to have thought that it was machinery producing those noises. Screams, expletives and gargled grunts were heard as the fight continued. It stretched on like piece of elastic. Stretching to a point of no return, it continued to move in opposite directions as every thread of fibre was pulled to limits unknown. Alas, it snapped. The duet of heartbeats slowed down. Dropping and dropping until only one was heard.




'

Chapter 7: Madness

Stripping the form from the envelope, the twins had their hearts in their mouths. The scent of the exquisite ink used in the document filled the air, as it briefly brought a restraint to the tension already building up within them.

Ever since the strange illness consumed their mother and left her restricted to the four bleak walls of a hospital ward, letters never seemed to carry any spirits of optimism and joy. The Goodends were perpetually being carefully observed under the watchful eyes of schemers and opportunists with shady motives. Like vultures, they circled around them and patiently waited for the hurt family to completely fall apart. Letters, thus, carrying a proposal for a joint investment in rubber plantations or even application forms for subsidised healthcare, were promptly disregarded and chucked away. Pain, seemingly, numbed their senses and blinded them. This painful process brought out the best of their suspicious natures, and with which they safe guarded the welfare of the falling household.

This letter, however, was different.

It was a hand written letter from the provincial authorities. It was the first they have ever encountered. The future as it seems was to be decided on this one form.

Reading it took a lifetime, accepting it took eternity. It seemed as if their lives were being taken away from them. They faced this impending Armageddon on their own, unable to communicate with a drunk of a father.  Dark clouds loomed over their heads as they waited for the day to come. The day of reckoning, the day their lives took a drastic change.

Then it came, like a wave, and swept them away.

It happened so quickly and suddenly. Five well dressed men, carrying a stack of bills, were ushered into the Goodend household. Taking it in their stride, Romulus and Remus took it in their stride and tried their very best to be the men of the household, though their age defined and confirmed their lack of maturity.

'Mr Romulus and Mr Remus Goodend?' The first man in the smart attire looked up and asked.

'That be us.' Replied the twins in unison.

Evidence of their disbelief was clearly reflected through raised eyebrows and jaws left hanging.

'Well..we would have you two lads know that your home is under mortgage due to the financial debt owed to the county. As such, the ownership and contents of this house is now under the full jurisdiction of the governing body.'

The words, uttered in clear articulation, delivered the final blow to the boys. They watched helplessly as the clergymen started declaring everything available in the house up for sale. Romulus, upon full realisation of the dire circumstances that his entire household were in, simply could not help but sob tears of bitterness.

'Ah! Whats this!' A clergyman with an eye for great value had exclaimed.

To the horror of the young men, they watched as there in his hand held a locket of pure gold, with its edges adorned with precious stones. Though dusty and rather dirty, the sapphires glistened in the scorching hot summer sun. Opening the locket revealed a photo of a young couple. They were so happy, so truly in love. He sniggered and gave a slight chuckle, as if to ridicule the current predicament that the Goodend's were in.

The crooked man then stealthily dropped it into his side pocket of his blazer. A smile quickly formed on his face as he pondered on the true value of the token of love. Remus, all the while sitting quietly at the corner of the corridor, got up abruptly.

Suddenly, in an act of sheer madness, he charged like a bull towards the man.

Pinning him down, he grabbed the startled man by his collar and shouted with such rage that the house reverberated with his roar.

'That is not yours to take!'

The others were taken aback. Even poor Romulus, was left stunned at the sudden course of actions that his brother had taken.

Recovering from the shock, the man got up and pulled Remus up to his feet. He promptly hit his jaw with a strong right cross. The sudden violence that had erupted worked up the other men and soon they formed a ring around the two. Remus was obviously no match for the well-built clergymen and soon his words were gargled with blood. Just as they were about to clash again, the sound of footsteps brought a sudden hush over the whole boisterous atmosphere. Romulus looked up and behold, someone was descending the stairs.

[!] Update

Hello readers,

Firstly, Im sorry for the massive delay in material release. I've decided that the plot requires some extra touch-ups and also improvement is needed on my part in writing out the story that unfolds. Furthermore, the constant worry of my O Level results hindered efforts severely. I continue to thank and request for your support!

Next, I'm also glad to announce that I'll be taking on a project to write a romance novel. It is my first time and I am excited! Do stay tuned for more details regarding this other upcoming project.

Lastly, I would also like to wish all readers here, albeit a late one, a Happy New Year. Let's live each day as if it was our last and not have any regrets.

P.S Its a promise to you that Chapter 7 WILL be out this week!

Regards!
Jethro